


Code Green

by Desdemon



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-23
Updated: 2012-08-23
Packaged: 2017-11-12 18:20:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/494251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Desdemon/pseuds/Desdemon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A one-shot for the prompt: <i>fake boyfriends at the club</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Code Green

**Author's Note:**

  * For [relmsey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/relmsey/gifts).



> Done for the [Spice Up Your Life rare pairings ficathon](http://christhemsworth.livejournal.com/614.html). Original prompt [here](http://christhemsworth.livejournal.com/614.html?thread=86374#t86374). Quick beta by [KiaraSayre](http://archiveofourown.org/users/kiarasayre), thx bb!

"Oh fuck, there's Alex," Danny mutters, leaning way into Jackson like he could ever hope to hide himself behind Jackson's smaller body. "Code green, dude. Alex is over there by the stage."

Jackson doesn't need to be told twice. With a surreptitious glance in the direction Danny is looking, he wraps an arm around Danny's waist and pulls him out onto the floor so they can be easily seen. Danny's tense under his hands. Jackson kicks him in the ankle.

"Asshole," Danny says, but he's still distracted, looking over at where Alex is loitering in what is almost definitely a mesh shirt with a shitty-looking bright orange drink.

Jackson grabs Danny's hips and drags him closer, connecting his hip with Danny's crotch with a little more force than he has to. "Quit it," he says, when Danny is forced to look at him in exasperation. "Alex is trash. And if you keep making googly eyes at him he's not exactly going to be jealous of your hot new piece, is he?"

The look Danny gives him is complex, but there's a smile in it somewhere.

"I mean, that's the most important part of a code green, let's be honest," Jackson says, trying again.

"Guys thinking you're hot?" Danny asks dryly.

Jackson just lets loose with a full-on smirk. Danny rolls his eyes, but he starts dancing with Jackson in earnest, and Jackson can finally feel his body relaxing.

They've done this enough times, in emergency situations and in too-many-drinks-at-Lydia's-parties situations, to know how the other moves. Dancing with Danny is easy, and - hell, why not admit it - sexy. It's even sexier than dancing with Lydia, sometimes. Lydia dances like she wants to be watched; Danny dances like he wants to be felt. Jackson's learned more about what to do with his hips with Danny than he has with any girl, ever.

"Is he watching?" Danny murmurs into Jackson's ear. Jackson repositions them so that he can see Danny's epically unworthy ex. He's watching, all right. Alex has found some guy to dance with, a muscle-bound loser equally as gym-ratty as he is, but his eyes are stuck on Danny.

"Oh yeah he is," Jackson answers, sliding his hands up and down Danny's back in a more obviously possessive manner. Danny's sweaty from the dancing and the thick air in the club, and his body is sticky and hot against Jackson's. Jackson feels a kind of vicious joy in touching Danny in front of his ex. If this dickhead was retarded enough to break up with Danny - calm, beautiful Danny - then he can damn well watch as somebody else makes use of what he didn't know what to do with. Jackson makes eye contact with Alex and lets his hands drift down to Danny's ass. Alex glowers. Jackson smiles.

"Let me see," Danny says, and they make a slow, sinuous turn in time with the music. When Jackson feels Danny start to stiffen again, he keeps the two of them turning, until they've made a three-sixty and Danny can no longer see Alex.

Jackson puts one hand on Danny's neck and pulls him in close. He kisses Danny under his ear, open-mouthed, tasting salt and the weird sourness of Danny's cologne.

"Jackson," Danny says in his ear, a warning, or a protest. Code greens have gotten kind of hot and heavy before in the name of showmanship, but never - well. Almost never. They usually don't do this. But Jackson doesn't like the way Alex is getting to Danny. He wants to make the guy hurt.

"Relax," Jackson tells him. "I'm committing here." He draws back, so Danny can see his smile, so Danny can see that it's not a big deal. Danny searches his face for a moment, then clearly resists an urge to turn around and look at Alex. He hesitates a little longer, looking at Jackson's lips.

That's enough of a "yes" that Jackson goes ahead and kisses Danny, working his mouth open and slipping his tongue inside before Danny can think of any of his usual objections. Danny makes a noise in the back of his throat, but this is the game plan now. Danny can either get with the program or risk Alex seeing them argue about it. Jackson slings his arms around Danny's neck and kisses him sloppily, energetically, shivering with the heady thrill of seeing Alex's apoplectic face before his eyes flutter closed. There's nothing better than that feeling. _Mine. I win._

Danny gets a hand in Jackson's hair and puts the other on the small of Jackson's back, keeping their bodies connected as they bump and slide apart to the beat. When Danny gets with a program, he really gets with it - he's kissing Jackson the same way he dances, breathless and unstoppable, like a tidal wave of heat and muscle and jesus, Jackson really fucking loves it. He feels another full-body shiver, but this time it's all about Danny, and he's getting that slightly queasy feeling in his stomach that means he wants something too much.

"Is he watching?" Danny pants, breaking away to scan the dance floor.

For a second Jackson doesn't know who Danny's talking about. He closes his eyes briefly and rests his chin on Danny's shoulder, catching his breath. Then he looks up. Alex's tequila sunrise or whatever the fuck is sitting on the edge of the stage, but Alex and the other guy are gone.

"I think we scared him away," Jackson says, and his voice is low and scratchy. He clears his throat and leans his hips into Danny's. He lets his lips brush Danny's ear as he speaks. "Told you that would work." His body is still humming with energy and want, and his fingers scritch gently at Danny's arms.

Danny puts his hands on Jackson's waist, and he carefully pushes Jackson a little distance away. "Thanks," he says firmly. "He's gonna be jealous as fuck." He pats Jackson on the shoulder, a painfully straight-guy move that wakes Jackson all the way up like an ice bath. Right. Danny doesn't want Jackson. He tells him all the time. How could Jackson have forgotten?

The queasiness in Jackson's stomach takes a brief dive into actual nausea, and for a moment all he can do is swallow and blink. Then he nods, a little too vehemently. "He's probably in the bathroom crying," he says at last. "We could go check, maybe take some pictures?"

Danny snorts, and his smile is small but real. "Yeah," he says. "Let's check it out."

They go to the bathroom, but there's only the requisite couple fucking in a stall, as well as a guy actually trying to use the bathroom. Alex isn't at the bar either, and by the time they get to the coat check they conclude that Alex has fled the building in a jealous fit. They high-five about it discreetly. Danny drives Jackson home. Jackson spends the car ride threatening Danny with public disavowal and shaming should he ever date another guy who wears mesh shirts. Jackson drinks four fingers of his dad's Laphroaig before he falls asleep. 

He wakes up and remembers it all anyway.


End file.
